


Spring Break

by Tarlan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsheplets, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-20
Updated: 2011-03-20
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vacations were for other people. Not for Rodney. Or so he believed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spring Break

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **mcsheplets** prompt #77 Vacation...Yes, I'm still playing catch-up on all the prompts I missed :)

Rodney stepped out of the Puddlejumper and glanced around the camp, seeing a tent set up in the center of the clearing with a fire pit close by.

"Emerson?"

No one answered, not even to tell him that he had yelled the wrong name. Bothered by the silence and the abandoned feel of the camp, Rodney went to the tent and pulled the flap aside, peeking in to find no sign of habitation beyond those items necessary for cooking and sleeping. He had expected to see research papers and a laptop or two belonging to the two researchers. The sound of the Puddlejumper's ramp rising had Rodney rushing back out in time to see the Puddlejumper rise into the air and bank off, heading back to Atlantis.

"Wait!" he yelled, before remembering his radio and stabbing at the switch. "What are you doing?"

"He's heading back to Atlantis."

Startled, Rodney spun on his heel as the voice came from behind him, recognition kicking in a split second later. John. Anger warred with relief because, for a moment, he thought he had been abandoned at this camp all alone. And it wasn't even my fault.

"Yeah it was."

Rodney blinked in surprise. "Did I say that out loud?"

"Yeah."

"Oh." He bristled. "And it's the truth. It wasn't my fault."

"Not according to Zelenka."

Rodney snarled. "That tattle-telling weasel. I'll--"

"Give it up, Rodney. You screwed up, fortunately not in a five sixths of a solar system way, but we all decided that you needed a break."

"A break?"

"Yeah. Consider this a vacation."

Horrified, Rodney looked around the basic campsite. "Oh no, no, no." He waggled a finger. "No. No. A vacation is a campus during Spring Break, with empty labs, sole computer time and fast internet access. This...this is Hell. There's..." he waved his hand towards the forest.

"Trees?"

Rodney snapped his fingers towards him. "Yes. Trees. With creatures and bugs. BUGS!"

John grimaced. "I hate bugs."

Rodney folded his arms in triumph. "Then call Lorne back now."

"No can do."

"Why?"

"I have my orders. From Woolsey. And I happen to agree with him this time."

Rodney glared hard and even though his glare had reduced many a hardened scientist and marine to a blubbering mess, he saw that it had no impact on John. He had always been immune--unfortunately. Rodney let his gaze drop to the packs at John's feet, checking the dimensions and shapes.

"No," he breathed, racing forward and dropping to his knees before a surprised John. He grabbed the first pack and tore into it, revealing rations to last at least three days. The next pack contained clean sleeping bags and there was a book of Sudoku puzzles and a few comics in the last bag, but no laptop. He whimpered.

"Wait. A pen...and paper." Rodney eyed the Sudoku puzzle book and its attached pen hungrily but John snapped both up.

"Mine. Though I might let you complete a puzzle or two if you're a good boy."

Rodney snarled, wishing he could wipe the smug grin off of Sheppard's face but he knew it wasn't worth the attempt. John would have him pinned to the floor with a bloodied nose in seconds. Rodney sat back hard and let his gaze wander around the campsite, where the only technology was a battery powered lamp hanging from a hook just inside the open tent flap. This was worse than he thought. Much worse. Suddenly he couldn't breathe, feeling his throat close up in panic but John was beside him in seconds, pushing a bag into his hands and forcing Rodney to breath into it. He glanced around wildly, eventually narrowing his focus to the man in front of him as a warm hand cradled the back of his neck, and fingers stroked through the fine nape hairs. Slowly he felt his breathing come back under control as he concentrated on the soothing voice.

"That's right. Breathe easy. In and out. In and Out."

Exhausted, Rodney slumped forward, pressing his forehead against Sheppard's chest and feeling his slower heart beat. Rodney focused on that beat, letting his own match it.

"That's it. You're doing fine."

Rodney let the bag drop from his hand so he could grip the soft cotton of John's t-shirt.

"Come on," John cajoled. "Let's get you inside the tent where you can have a lie down until you feel better."

When he tried to stand, Rodney's legs felt like they were made of rubber, and he nearly went straight back down again.

"I got you."

John held on tight and helped him, supporting his weight until he could lower Rodney onto the extra-large pallet that had already been set up by the previous occupants of the camp. Rodney threw an arm over his eyes as John moved away to get the fresh sleeping bags, feeling embarrassed by his stupid panic attack, but he had a right to panic. They had dropped him into a wasteland as far as technology was concerned. He might even have to read a real book for entertainment, something he hadn't done since before the dawn of the PDA, unless... Rodney patted the pocket of his TAC vest, hoping to find a PDA of Earth or Ancient origin. He didn't care which. He needed technology around him. He couldn't survive with only trees and rocks as far as the eye could see. It was NATURE, and he didn't do nature. Except he really had no choice. Rodney groaned in dismay. Three days. This was worse than the time his father insisted on taking him camping. After two hours of trekking through the wilderness, his father had finally relented when he couldn't find the campsite, and they had booked into a motel in the closest town for the next two days. Rodney had spent his days in the local library studying while his dad hung out in the motel bar. Somehow he didn't think John was going to relent and take him back to civilization.

John returned with the sleeping bags and eyed him with concern. "You're not going to have another panic attack?" John sighed. "Look, this is no different to half our missions. Camping out under the stars."

Rodney shot him a look of disgust because this was so different. On missions he had a laptop and a purpose. Here he had...nothing. He moved, though, to allow John to spread out one of the sleeping bags, curious when he placed it across the whole pallet rather than zipped up into single bedding.

"It's a warm night," John explained without being asked, as if reading Rodney's thoughts.

As the evening wore on and darkness settled around the camp, Rodney noticed a warm glow through the tent's side wall. Curiosity won out and he peeked outside to see John sitting cross-legged in front of a small fire, toasting a marshmallow.

"You have marshmallows!" Rodney accused.

"Want one?" John held out a stick and Rodney quickly overcame his disgust at the thought of eating a marshmallow off a possibly dirty stick, humming in approval at the sticky sweetness with a slightly burned outer layer and gooey center.

He snapped his fingers. "More." And scowled when John bit back on a grin as he handed over another toasted marshmallow. More food arrived in the form of something more substantial than marshmallows and Rodney tucked in greedily.

"See? It's not so bad," John stated softly, and Rodney almost agreed because the stars were out and the sky above them was amazing.

For an astrophysicist, he had spent far too little time actually seeing the stars with his own eyes, but the points of light filling the night sky reminded him of his childhood, finding comfort with the stars from his back yard while his parents argued inside the house. Of course, here, all the constellations were wrong. There was no Orion or Cassiopeia and no recognizable stars such as Polaris or Sirius. This world had its own stars and if anyone had ever aligned them into constellations then that knowledge was long dead.

They spent the next hour naming the constellations, with Rodney taking umbrage at some of the outlandish names John provided.

"Huh! And you told others they were never allowed to name anything...ever."

John grinned and bumped shoulders with Rodney, and Rodney found himself relaxing when John pulled out a bottle of whiskey and offered it to him. By the time he decided to retire for the night, he felt pleasantly lightheaded, stripping off his boots and outer layers. John was right. It was a warm night. Rodney tensed a little when John turned the lamp to a low setting and eased onto the pallet beside him, drawing the other opened sleeping bag over them like a blanket. Lying shoulder to shoulder, Rodney listened as John's breathing slowed, waiting until he was certain John was asleep.

In the darkness of the tent it was difficult to make out John's features but there was just enough light from the lamp to see his profile. Hazy memories returned of waking scared, slowly losing his mind, to find John lying stretched out beside him, sometimes holding him. He had a sense memory of moving into the warmth and security John offered so freely, of laying his head on John's shoulder and feeling John's arms wrap around him, holding him, and whispering soft reassurances. That had been years ago--before the wraith attack on Earth. Before his short lived marriage to Jennifer that had ended in a bitter divorce within six months when she realized that Rodney would never give up his work on Atlantis for her.

Perhaps it was a sad reflection on his own misguided feelings but he didn't miss her, and rarely even thought about her. The time they had spent together off-duty was simply filled by others so seamlessly that it often surprised him when he did recall his time spent with Jennifer. Strangely, he spent even more off-duty time with John since the return to Pegasus, especially now that the team had disbanded. They met for lunch and dinner, they still raced cars along the east pier corridors, and John was teaching him how to play golf. Real golf rather than video games. The old team still met for movie night but often Rodney and John stayed and put on another movie after Teyla and Ronon had said their 'goodnight'.

"You're thinking too much," John murmured in the darkness, startling Rodney.

"You're awake!"

John rolled onto his side and leaned up on one elbow, his raised eyebrow apparent in the weak light from the lamp.

"Yes, yes, obviously you're awake."

"You need to switch off that big brain of yours, Rodney, and get some sleep. I've got a hike planned for tomorrow."

"In the woods?"

"No. I thought we'd just circle the clearing a couple of hundred times."

"What if we're attacked?"

"These woods are as safe as the ones back home."

"There are bears in the woods back home."

John winced. "Safer. I meant safer."

"What if we come across a bear?"

"We won't."

"But what if we did?"

"Then I'd scare it off...or shoot it."

"I need to use the bathroom."

John blinked at the change in subject. "Then pick a tree."

"But what if a bear--?"

"McKay. There are no bears," John snapped. "And this is not the first time we've camped out overnight... but if it makes you feel any better then I'll stand guard while you pick a tree."

Rodney held an internal debate but now he had thought about it, he couldn't un-think needing the bathroom. With great reluctance, he crawled out from between the warm sleeping bags and padded towards the tent flap, looking back to check John was following. He sighed in relief when he scrambled back into the bed a few minutes later, offering John a chagrined smile.

"Better?"

"Oh, infinitely," Rodney snarked back.

When morning came, Rodney hummed in quiet contentment, gently kicking the sleeping bag blanket that was tangled at his feet off him completely before he snuggled deeper into the warmth of the body wrapped around him. He wriggled back and tensed as something thick and hard pressed into the valley between his ass cheeks. A shock of pleasure ran straight through him, making his own morning erection ache with a need he normally satisfied with his own hand these days. The hairy arm wrapped over his waist to palm his chest was instantly recognizable, and Rodney felt a stab of guilt for wanting to stay this way a little longer, with the heaviness of John's arm around him and the hardness of his cock pressed against Rodney's ass. Perhaps if he closed his eyes and pretended he was still asleep.

The ache grew as John nuzzled Rodney's throat, puffs of his warm breath exciting nerve endings and sending all this sensory input straight to Rodney's groin. Rodney couldn't resist moving his hand a little, letting his fingers ghost over the tip of his own growing erection, separated only by the thin cotton of his boxer shorts. Biting back a soft cry of pleasure, he touched a little harder, unable to resist a tiny squirm that made John slide behind him a little and push Rodney's cock harder into his fingers.

John moved suddenly, his hand clamping over the top of Rodney's, squeezing down around the fingers that Rodney would have had wrapped around his cock if not for the restrictive material of his boxers. The hand moved slowly up and down, high enough to catch the waistband and slowly drag the material down until the tip of Rodney's cock was exposed. He forced the material down further with the next few strokes until his boxers were partway down his thighs, wrapping his hand around the hot flesh while John's hand tightened too. The warm puffs of breath against his throat became nibbling kisses as they rocked slowly, with the slickness of precome easing the slide of his fingers over himself, and of John's cock against Rodney's skin. Rodney came first, his release rolling over him in a wave of warmth, semen striping his belly and both their hands. Short thrusts behind froze a moment then resumed at a slower pace as Rodney felt the splatter of John's release across his lower back.

It should have felt gross but instead Rodney reveled in the sensation, pressing back to smear the come between their still slowly rocking bodies.

Eventually John rolled onto his back, leaving Rodney feeling cold and damp.

"Stay there. I'll get you cleaned up," John murmured, returning moments later with moist tissues and disposing of the used tissue before pulling Rodney back against him--chest to Rodney's back. At some point John had discarded his t-shirt because Rodney could feel the ticklish warmth of chest hairs against the skin exposed by his own rucked up t-shirt. It felt good. Safe. Right. And he drifted off back to sleep even as a hundred questions raced around his head.

When he awoke again he was still wrapped in John's arms but John was on his back and Rodney was partially covering him, just the way his hazy memories recalled from those parasite days. Except this John was shirtless. From the deep, indrawn breath, Rodney knew John was awake but relaxed, with his hand gently caressing the forearm Rodney had thrown over John's waist. After quickly searching his mind for regrets or embarrassment, Rodney realized he couldn't find any, and the revelation made him tense a little; the hand stopped caressing his skin.

"I'm not sorry this happened," Rodney stated softly, his words slightly muffled against John's shoulder.

Silence stretched between them before the hand resumed it soft caresses. "Good."

Rodney raised his head. "Good? That's it? Just good?"

John smiled broadly, eyes sparkling across at him in pleasure. "Yeah. Because I don't plan to stop this any time soon."

Rodney gave a soft huff and laid his head back down on John's chest. Suddenly two more days and another night in the wilderness didn't seem so bad after all, and he might even come to appreciate this concept of taking a vacation, as long as John always came too.

END

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